by Marta Perry
“I have someone who has an option to buy.” Caution sounded in her reply. “She’ll be arriving on Friday, so I’m hoping to have a deal in place soon.”
“Is this someone who plans to live in the house?” Brad’s question came out sharply. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, with his eyes shielded by those designer sunglasses.
Laura nodded. “She intends to have a vintage clothing shop on the first floor. It should make a lovely addition to the shops in the block.”
“Well, that is good news.” Brad took a step back, apparently mindful again of that wet paint. “I’m happy to hear it’s working out so well for you after all the obstacles you’ve had to overcome.”
“Thank you.” Laura was graciousness itself, given the fact that Potter and his committee had provided many of the obstacles.
He supposed he shouldn’t mention that. Maybe his face showed some of what he was thinking, though, because Potter gave him an uneasy glance and then lifted his hand.
“Congratulations on a job well done. I hope I’ll see you again soon.” He turned and strode off down the street.
Laura sat back on her heels and put her paint brush on the lid of the can. She looked up at Ryan with a challenge in her dark eyes.
“Did you have to be so rude to him? I thought you and Bradley Potter were old pals.”
“Are you kidding? He wouldn’t hang around with the likes of the Flanagans.”
He caught himself up. If Brad was disposed to be friendly toward Laura, he shouldn’t interfere. Especially when he’d decided it was time he backed out of her life.
“Brad’s okay,” he conceded. “Pretty successful, really. Rumor has it his old man ran through the family money, but Brad’s put together a nice real estate business since he took over.”
She nodded, but he could tell she was only giving Brad Potter a fraction of her attention. “At least he’s not hassling me about the renovation anymore.”
He glanced at his watch. His lunch hour was about up, and his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten anything.
“Well, maybe I’d better hit the road. Good luck with the buyer.” In other words, he didn’t expect to see her before then.
“Wait a second.” She stood, wiping her hands on her jeans. “There’s something I’d like to ask you.”
“Sure. What?”
“I’m inviting a few people over for dinner tonight. Just a very casual meal, as a thank-you to people who’ve helped me. I know this is last-minute, but I hope you’ll come.”
He should invent some previous engagement. Back away, remember?
Before he could find an appropriate answer, a shrill noise startled him. Then he realized she’d put her cordless phone on the front step.
“Just a second, okay?” She picked up.
Not wanting to stand next to her while she talked, he moved over to look at Mandy’s chalk drawing. She smiled up at him, clearly inviting him to admire her work.
She’d added to the picture. A little girl with dark curls now stood next to the dog, holding hands with a woman whose hair was equally dark. Mandy and her mother, obviously.
But that wasn’t all. On the child’s other side, she held hands with what was meant to be a male figure.
He’d tell himself that she was remembering her father, but he couldn’t. Because the male figure wore what was obviously intended to be a navy-blue uniform.
For a moment he couldn’t react at all. He glanced at Laura. Engrossed in the call, she hadn’t noticed what Mandy had been drawing.
He couldn’t tell a child that the image grabbed his heart. Or that it made him want to run away.
“Great picture, Mandy.” He bent down and hugged her. “You’re really good at drawing.”
That probably wasn’t what she wanted him to say, but it was the best he could manage.
Laura had hung up the phone, but she stood looking at it with an expression that startled him.
“Laura, what is it? Is something wrong?”
“No. Not wrong.” She glanced at Mandy, and he realized she was being careful of what she said in front of the child. “That was the appointments desk at the hospital. They’ve had a cancellation. We’re now on the schedule for Thursday.”
He looked at Mandy, too, but she had turned back to her drawing, clearly not understanding the importance of that call.
“That’s great, isn’t it? Will you be able to manage the down payment by then?”
She looked so stunned that he stepped closer, taking her hand. It felt cold in his.
“Yes.” She focused on him, joy dawning slowly in her eyes, as if she couldn’t quite believe it was real. “It’s wonderful. Soon, but wonderful. And Dr. Phillips convinced the hospital to let him go ahead, even though I won’t have the down payment until at least next week.”
“I’m glad.” He squeezed her hand. “Looks like you’ve been getting some really overdue good news.”
Her eyes shone with tears. “Silly, isn’t it, to cry over something this good?”
“Not silly at all.” He took a breath, realizing he wouldn’t have to make up an excuse about her dinner after all. “Look, you won’t want to be bothered with company tonight. I’m sure everyone will understand if you cancel.”
She wiped the tears away impatiently. “Cancel? I’m not going to cancel. Now I really have something to celebrate, and it’s nice to know I have friends to share it with. You’re coming, aren’t you?”
What could he say? “Sure, sounds great. I wouldn’t miss it.”
Everything seemed to be going well. Laura paused in the doorway of the kitchen, scanning the living room, crowded now with the people she’d invited. Flanagans, mostly, but a few others from the church. And Ryan’s friend, Jerry White, the plasterer. All people to whom she owed a debt of gratitude.
The Flanagans, predictably, had insisted on bringing food with them. They’d set up card tables to augment her small dining table, spreading the food out buffet-style. People talked, ate, milled around the building admiring the changes accomplished in such a short time. The buzz of conversation, punctuated by laughter, filled the rooms.
It was odd, to be having her first and last party in the townhouse. Still, this night would be something to remember—a celebration of accomplishment and friendship.
Finding friendship had been the last thing on her mind when she’d come back to Suffolk. She’d thought she didn’t have time, maybe didn’t even have the capacity for friendship. She’d been proved wrong.
Thanks to Ryan. She didn’t have to search for him in the crowded room. It seemed she’d developed a sort of radar where he was concerned. He stood over by the door, a plate in one hand, gesturing with it as he talked to his father. Or argued with him, maybe.
Those two might not look much alike, but they were, down deep where it counted, whether they realized it or not. Both strong, outgoing, passionate about what they did, physically unafraid.
She blinked, turning away, realizing she’d been staring too long. Her heart might ache with love for him, but Ryan must never know that. It would be a poor return for all the kindness he’d shown to make him feel uncomfortable about a love he couldn’t return.
“Nice party.” Pastor Brendan stopped next to her, balancing a dessert plate filled with two kinds of pie she certainly hadn’t baked. Siobhan’s handiwork, probably. “Lots of good food, good friends and good conversation.”
She managed a smile, hoping he hadn’t seen her watching Ryan. “I can’t take credit for any of those. Everyone’s managing the conversation on their own, and your family must have brought at least three-quarters of the food.”
“They do enjoy bringing food.” His intent gaze seemed to ask if that had offended her. “My Aunt Siobhan always figures you express love to someone by feeding them. She’d be hurt if you didn’t let her help.”
“Yes. Ryan told me once that his mother says God’s hands on earth are other people.”
Brendan’s brows lifted. “
You don’t agree?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought much about it.” And thinking about it made her uncomfortable. “But certainly Siobhan lives by that, and she’s taught her family to do the same.”
“We haven’t offered you charity, you know.” Brendan seemed to read between the lines. That probably was an asset to a minister. “Just friendship.”
“I know.” That was all Ryan had to offer, and it would have to be enough. Too bad she wanted more.
“Ryan told me about Mandy’s implant surgery.” He reached out to take her hand in a firm, warm grip. “I’ll be praying for her. And for you.”
Her eyes filled with unexpected tears. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” Those moments when she’d cried out in incoherent prayer flickered through her mind, and she pushed them away.
“Will it be all right if I stop in and see you and Mandy at the hospital Thursday?”
It would be difficult to say an outright no. “I don’t want to take you out of your way.”
“I’m there every day,” he said gently. He squeezed her hand. “I’ll see you then.”
He moved away, apparently having said what he’d intended to say. She turned, thinking she’d replenish the serving trays, to discover that Ryan and his father had moved their argument, if that’s what it was, to the buffet.
“Laura, tell me what you think about this stubborn son of mine.” Joe seized her arm, making escape possible. “You’ve known him a long time. Maybe you can explain.”
Ryan rolled his eyes, looking as embarrassed as she’d ever seen him. “Dad, give Laura a break. She doesn’t want to take sides. You’re just making her uncomfortable.”
“Nonsense.” Joe’s booming voice turned several heads their way. “I just want to know what Laura thinks about you giving up a job you already do great to jump into something completely different.”
“It’s not completely different.” Ryan sounded as if he’d said the words a few dozen times. “I’m still working for the fire department. I can even work shifts and go on calls when I’m not working a case.”
“Working a case,” Joe scoffed. “That makes you sound like a cop. All the time you were growing up, being a firefighter was the only thing you ever wanted.”
“Well, now I want to try something different.”
Ryan wore the expression of someone who’d been goaded by his father one time too many, and she suspected she’d better intervene, little though she wanted to get between two such bullheaded men.
She grasped Joe’s arm. “You asked me what I thought about it.” She wouldn’t look at Ryan when she said this, for fear of giving too much away. “I think Ryan can be a success at whatever he decides to do. And I think you’ll be proud of him, no matter what that is.”
Joe looked startled and speechless for a moment. He flushed, and she was afraid he was going to explode at her, but he didn’t.
“Well, of course I’ll be proud of him. I already am proud of him. Ryan knows that.”
Judging by Ryan’s expression, he hadn’t been so sure.
Before he could speak, his mother swept down on them. “The two of you are blocking the buffet table and monopolizing the hostess. You ought to have better sense.” She seized a tray. “Either help or get out of the way.”
“Out of the way,” Joe said quickly. He nudged Ryan.
“Show me the plastering job you boys did.” They moved off, apparently amicably.
Siobhan smiled, watching them. “I’m sorry about that. When Joe gets something in his head, it takes a bulldozer to get it back out again.”
“I didn’t want to interfere.”
Siobhan squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Laura. You handled him just right.”
She headed into the kitchen with the meat-and-cheese tray, and Laura picked up the sadly depleted crab-puff plate and followed her.
“I wasn’t really trying to handle him. I just said what I think.”
“Well, it was the right thing.” Siobhan’s fingers moved quickly over the tray, arranging alternating slices of ham and chicken. “Will you do me a favor?”
Laura glanced up at the seriousness of her tone. “Of course, if I can.”
“Don’t walk out of our lives once the house is sold. We’re fond of you and Mandy. We don’t want to lose you.”
“Thank you, Siobhan. I appreciate that more than I can say. I’m not sure what we’ll do or where we’ll go after Mandy’s surgery.”
She blinked back the tears that seemed too near the surface lately. Much as she enjoyed her friendship with the Flanagan family, she didn’t think she could go on being close to Ryan, feeling as she did.
“Oh, I know your life might change.” Siobhan tucked a sprig of parsley under a cherry tomato. “That keeps happening to people. Look how much Ryan’s changed lately. Taking on a new job, new responsibilities—there were times when we never thought that boy would grow up, but he continues to surprise us. Even a charmer like Ryan can be serious when he wants it enough.”
She gave Siobhan a sharp look. Was Ryan’s mother implying what it sounded like—that Ryan would or could change his negative attitude about being responsible for someone else’s happiness?
If so, Siobhan didn’t know her son as well as she thought she did. Ryan had made his feelings clear without saying anything directly, and she had no choice but to respect that. No matter how much her heart might ache.
Chapter Twelve
“Sounds like you have quite a defender in Laura.” Seth propped his elbow on the bookcase and looked as if he were settling in for a long chat.
The last thing Ryan needed or wanted at the moment was some big brother advice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He accompanied the words with a glare.
Seth didn’t seem impressed. “She made Dad back down when he was riding you about the new job. I’d say that’s quite an accomplishment.”
“I can handle Dad myself.”
“Yeah, right.” Seth grinned. “Like anyone but Mom has ever been able to do that. I don’t know why that should make you act like you’ve stepped on a hot coal. Laura was being a friend, wasn’t she?”
Maybe that was the problem. His friendship with Laura was in rocky enough shape without any further complications.
Mandy ran up to him, arms outstretched for a hug, and saved him from trying to find an answer. She darted off again, chasing Seth’s Davy. The laughter in her face touched him. Mandy was opening up.
“That little girl is getting attached to you.” Seth’s observation carried a faint tone of caution.
“She’s a sweet kid. I’ve been around lately, helping with the house. That’s all.” Somehow he didn’t think Seth was going to buy that.
“You don’t need to get defensive about it. I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”
“Do you think I do?” He glared at his brother. “Look, Seth, it’s none of your business.”
That was one protest too many. He knew it as soon as he said it. Seth would take those words as a challenge, and he wouldn’t give up on the subject until he’d delivered some big brotherly advice.
But Seth just studied his face for a long moment. “I see. You’re getting attached to Mandy, too. And to Laura.”
“What if I am?”
“You tell me.”
Usually a good argument with one of his brothers would cheer him up. Not this time. Not when he already knew he was in trouble.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Hey, you know me. I’m not ready for a serious relationship.”
He expected Seth to agree with him. Instead he just smiled.
“Sometimes love happens to you whether you’re ready or not.”
“Not love.” He shied away from the word with a sense of panic. “Just—well, more attached than I meant to be. And now the investigation—”
He stopped.
Seth raised an eyebrow. “What investigation? The fire on the back porch?”
“Yes.” He didn’t intend to say more, b
ut he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Anyway, Seth was safe. “North got another anonymous call. This time the caller said more.” He took a breath, hating this. “He said that Laura started the fire herself.”
Seth let out his breath in a soundless whistle. “Do you believe that?”
“No. Not a chance in the world. She wouldn’t do anything to put her child in danger.” He was as sure of that as he was anything in this life.
“I guess someone could argue that she didn’t realize the fire would take off so fast. And she was on her way out with Mandy when you got there.”
“You sound like North.”
“Does he think she did it?” Seth’s voice sharpened.
“Who knows what North thinks? He doesn’t confide in me. Just tells me to use my brains and work the facts.”
He wouldn’t add that North frequently looked at him as if doubting he had any brains. That didn’t do much for his hope of ever succeeding at this job.
Seth glanced across the room to where Laura stood in conversation with their mother. “Does Laura know about the anonymous tip?”
“No.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Seth’s tone was carefully neutral, as if to avoid the slightest hint of prejudice either way.
If this situation weren’t so serious, he’d almost want to smile. “Don’t you want to give me some big brotherly advice?”
Seth didn’t move for a moment. Then he grasped his shoulder in a quick, hard grip. “You’ll do the right thing. I know.”
He blinked. That was a first—a vote of confidence in his judgment from his big brother.
The problem was figuring out what the right thing was.
“Did you two get enough to eat?”
He hadn’t heard Laura approach, and he started guiltily at the question.
“I don’t know about Ryan, but I’m stuffed.” Seth slapped his shoulder. “And I think I’d better stop Davy before he grabs another cupcake.”
Seth moved off quickly, leaving him alone with Laura. He cleared his throat, wanting to say—what? There was nothing he could say.
